Getting the job done properly
by BriefShiningMoment
Summary: The Isle of the Blessed rang with the screams of liberated souls of darkness - the Dorocha. The Cailleach demands a price. Merlin disagrees. Alternative ending to Darkest Hour. Now the knights struggle to come to terms with Merlin's secret and Merlin gains a new name in destiny
1. Leave it to the pro

Merlin slowly stalked over to where the Cailleach would meet him in the centre of what was once the great hall of the Blessed Isle.

"So….Emrys. You choose to challenge me after all," she mused, mocking derision in her voice.

The pair came to a stop, facing each other.

"Will you give yourself to the spirits to save your prince?" she asked tonelessly, knowing full well his answer. Merlin's eyes narrowed and his hand shot out to the side in warning.

"Stay there, Lancelot," he ordered. Lancelot, about to walk toward the veil himself stopped, startled at the order. Merlin's cold gaze shifted to the Cailleach who stared back with hollow, cunning eyes.

"You lied."

Lancelot was stunned at the dark tone in Merlin's voice. Never had he been witness to such a quiet rage in the unassuming servant.

"You demand a sacrifice, not so that it would close the veil but so that you would deem it worthy of your efforts to send the Dorocha back." The two beings of magic gazed at each other, unnaturally still in the cold darkness that surrounded them. The aura of power the two figures gave off made Lancelot shiver.

"Your services are not required here," Merlin spat, furious at her inaction. The Cailleach was no fool. She was a being of magic, she knew full well the legend of Emrys, both his potential to bring peace and his wrath. With a respectful nod she faded away and left him.

Lancelot stood and stared, confused. "Didn't we need her to close the veil?" Merlin shot him an amused look.

"If you want a job done right, do it yourself," he quipped and continued making his way to the veil.

Merlin didn't bother reaching for his magic. It would take more than that to heal a tear between worlds. Reaching out for what his senses told him was there he grasped the very fabric of darkness and pulled it, manipulating it to his will. Once he'd brought the two pieces as close together as it would go and careful not to step too close to the edge, Merlin turned to his friend.

"Lancelot," the man started, as if in some kind of trance. "Go to Arthur and Gwaine, get them clear of the doorway." Without question Lancelot followed through and for a moment Merlin truly appreciated the loyalty of his friend. While waiting for him to pull the others to safety Merlin prepared himself.

He found something - not unlike his dragonlord heritage but more ancient. Reaching for it he called out to the darkness.

"Bebiede be arisan, ypile cume mec! Beo scildanbora steacra strengthe ealdan aewfaestnesse, ic the diegol searobend! Fago, folgie min bebeod!"

He gripped the ethereal walls and braced himself as the night was filled with screams. The first one shot towards him and just liked before he felt the unforgiving cold seeping through his bones. The Dorocha passed through him to the swirling beyond as the next came.

And the next.

And the next.

It seemed never ending.

Merlin shuddered and struggled to maintain his grip on the land of the living. Each spirit that crashed through him tried to drag him with them into the abyss. He tried to think of warmth, of what his magic felt like running through his veins, of resting in a chair next to hearth.

No warmth, no matter how comforting could make him ignore the icy darkness spreading through his body. He couldn't remove his hands from their grip if he tried, the coldness rendering his fingers frozen. But with the cold came the weakness. As the stream kept coming, Merlin was slowly being beaten back.

"Merlin!" He looked up at the call; not realising that he'd bent his head and closed his eyes until he opened them.

Gwaine had woken up. He could see him off to the side, held back from approaching by Lancelot. He looked terrified for him. Next to him, Merlin could see Arthur, still unconscious and a wave of memories came.

Arthur asking him to look after Guinevere, his stride resolute as he prepared to give his life for his kingdom. Arthur at his side, standing together with his knights at the Round Table, proud and strong. The king he was going to be and the dream of the future he would build. A fair and just land for all, the freedom of magic.

That was what he was fighting for. With renewed vigour Merlin stood straighter under the force of the darkness. He thought of his mother, of Gaius and Lancelot but mostly he thought of Arthur. His courage and morality. His stubbornness. His honour and his prattish ways.

Suddenly the flow stopped. He stumbled forward and the veil closed behind him. Merlin fell to his hands and knees, gasping for breath. His limbs trembled as the iciness covering them and seeping through to his bones. Dimly he heard running footsteps in his direction. He recognised Leon and Elyan calling out to him.

"Stay back!" he called out. His voice broke at the words but his message must have gotten through because they didn't come any closer. He could feel darkness in him, wrapping around his heart and restricting his breath. There was no time for spells. He gathered his magic and let it loose, his eyes burning hot.

The knights turned away, protecting their eyes as a golden light exploded out from the manservant. Lancelot was the first to go up to him after it faded, cautiously approaching the still warlock.

He stirred and slowly picked himself up off the ground. Lancelot lunged forward to catch him before he fell. Due to his support, Merlin was able to gain his footing once more. The knights stared at the unassuming manservant, Prince Arthur still obliviously unconscious.

"That, my friend," drawled Merlin, only half conscious. "That is how you save the world."

The warlock promptly fainted.

BriefShiningMoment

Because let's be honest. That episode did not end the way I wanted it to.

Spells:

"I command you come forth, moral evil come to me! I am unbending shield bearer by the strength of the old religion, I bind the darkness! Imminent death, obey my will!"


	2. Merlin sacked who?

Knights of Camelot were relentlessly trained to face any threat for the good of the kingdom. Their respect for Arthur as a man, a warrior and a friend had grown to that of their leader and brother in arms when they came under his command. Leon himself, one of Arthur's longest serving knights also found his respect growing as each new tactic and fighting technique revealed not only Arthur's intelligence but his faith in his knights and the knowledge that they shared his fighting spirit.

It was their training which enabled Leon, Percival and Elyan to fight against three wyverns on the Isle of Blessed. It was their loyalty to Arthur that kept their fighting spirit burning within them even as the wyverns stopped their attack.

For all of their experiences fighting on their own before meeting Arthur, all of them knew that you don't fear your enemy when they are fighting against you. You fear when they stop. It means there's a threat greater than you realised. So when the wyverns all stopped together and flew off in frenzy, they knew the fight was only just beginning.

"Tell me that's a cloud," breathed Percival. Elyan shook his head slowly and could only stare in horror. A few weeks ago, Leon would have told him it was only a cloud, possibly lit up by the moon to make that iridescent glow. But the moon had already set and since the Samhain celebrations, he knew it wasn't a living creature that was making that scream.

If they thought seeing the Dorocha ambush them one by one in swooping attacks was frightening, they knew better now. As it came closer, it could only be described as a stream of death. And they stood between that river and the ocean.

"Get back!" ordered Leon needlessly. They were already hastening to either side of the arch, willing to believe that would provide enough protection. They'd barely managed to get out of the way before it started.

Leon could feel the chill of ice in the air. The gale that seemed to be sucking in the spirits whipped his hair in his face and caused him to gasp at air. The worst part was the noise. The familiar screams of despair and pain that came from the Dorocha had changed to that of anger and desperation as they were forced out of the world. Leon clamped his hands to his ears, attempting to shut out the terrible noise. He crouched down slightly, pressing against the stone at his back, attempting to find some reassurance in the stability of the ruins. Across the archway he could see Elyan and Percival in a similar position.

It seemed to last for hours but couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Elyan tentatively crept forward, peering up at the sky. Judging the way to be clear, he rushed forward into the hall, sensing the others following after him. His attention was immediately drawn to the centre of the hall to see Merlin kneeling on the floor.

"Merlin?" he called out, rushing towards the kneeling man with Leon beside him.

"Stay back!" a cracked voice called out. Elyan stopped, shocked at the firmness of the command as he was by the sound of Merlin's voice. He hardly recognised him. Now closer, Elyan could see the ice that spread across the ground where Merlin knelt and the stark whiteness of his limbs. He had a moment as it dawned on him exactly where Merlin was kneeling before a new distraction arose in the form of a great flash of golden light. It felt warm, like the heat of a furnace and hugging Gwen.

It felt like magic.

He couldn't move further even as the light faded. In his peripheral vision he noticed Leon similarly paralysed as they both stared in open mouthed shock. Because that magic couldn't have been because of Merlin could it?

Of all the knights of Camelot, none of them were trained what to do when considering their friend to be a sorcerer. Regardless of their station, as friends they weren't prepared for that possibility. It was with a numb shock that the group could only watch as Lancelot approached Merlin.

He trembled with the effort of pushing himself off the ground. For a moment Elyan felt a strange kind of relief. Sorcerers were powerful. They didn't stumble clumsily like Merlin did. They had a strange grace that came with their power that Merlin couldn't possibly possess. Lancelot didn't seem to be trouble with thoughts of deception. He caught his friend like he'd watched him burst into light hundreds of times.

Any half illusions that any of them had made about what might not have happened were shaken when they looked at Merlin closely. Gold flecks danced erratically in his eyes as he grinned tiredly at Lancelot with a strange pride in his voice.

"That, my friend…that is how you save the world." They watched him pass out with a strange detachment, not quite knowing what to do about it. Except Lancelot that is. He had caught the unconscious warlock and was now gently lowering him to the floor, worriedly checking for a pulse.

"What just happened?" demanded Gwaine, stalking almost threateningly towards Lancelot.

"He's alive," Lancelot said, ignoring the other knights and breathing a sigh of relief.

"That was magic," stated Leon, confusion evident in his voice.

"The veil, it's closed," breathed Elyan in wonder.

"But…" protested Leon. He spun round, fear almost overwhelming him at the sight of his prince lying still on the ground.

"Arthur!" he cried out, rushing towards him to kneel at his side. They all knew the price that had been asked.

"He's alright," Lancelot assured them. Leon only relaxed when he could see Arthur's chest rising. Leon stood up, taking charge as the second in command.

"Percival, take Arthur. Let's get out of here and set up camp away from this island…someone bring Merlin." Lancelot detected the wavering authority in Leon's voice when he said Merlin's name. For now relieved that he hadn't made more drastic orders, Lancelot carefully gathered the warlock. It seemed the boy was always getting himself into trouble for Arthur. The others watched the knight cautiously, perhaps sensing that he knew more than he let on which, in all fairness, was a good assumption.

By some unspoken agreement, none of them asked Lancelot any questions, which he was grateful for. It didn't sit well with him, the thought of lying to his comrades and it was usually Merlin who did that. Lancelot then felt that familiar guilt as he contemplated the life of his young friend, forced to lie to those who cared for him.

It was an eerily silent group of knights that made their way to the shore. The boatman smiled and chuckled to himself as they drew nearer.

"Taken care of another one, has he?" he rasped.

"What do you mean?" Leon snapped at him, suspicious. The boatman eyed them with sightless eyes, sensing more than they seemed to.

"The boy. It's the second time he's come to the Isle with the intention of giving his life. Still here he is, probably sacked another High Priestess while he's at it. Cunning devil," he laughed, gasping in air through his teeth. The knights looked at him with varying degrees of disgust and wariness. Leon frowned thoughtfully.

"Will you take us to shore?" asked Lancelot. The old man turned, still chuckling quietly and gestured for the party to follow as he got in the boat. It was a tight fit, particularly as two of their number were unconscious but they managed, sitting them up and supporting them for the brief voyage. The sky began to brighten to blue again, gradually shaking off the night. The memories wouldn't be leaving any time soon though.

Leon and Elyan couldn't persuade the man to continue, and neither were entirely sure if they wanted him to. He didn't seem to be a man at all and it was somewhat more comforting when he didn't speak, as strange as his existence was. So that was why with one last eerie glance, the old boatman turned away from them and left them on the shore with more questions than they'd had before.

"What was he talking about, another High Priestess?" asked Elyan, bewildered. Gwaine glanced at Lancelot who shrugged, as clueless as they were.

"The last High Priestess was a woman called Nimueh," responded Leon curtly. "One of Camelot's greatest enemies, she disappeared a few years ago."

"Merlin sacked her?" Gwaine asked, still confused but now more impressed. He whistled low. Leon gritted his teeth and walked into the forest, taking it as a given that the others would follow. No one questioned Leon's knowledge of the goings on in Camelot. Not only had he been around for a long time, he'd also had a talent for being around when everything went wrong. Just as Merlin did, now that Gwaine thought about it. He realised Merlin had a lot of things to explain and Gwaine couldn't wait to hear it… it might even rival his own tales and misadventures in the tavern.

~MERLIN~

The prince and warlock stayed asleep even as they stopped to make camp after sunrise. It was to be expected, neither of them had slept the night before, staying up to discuss the situation of the Dorocha. No one was really sure what had happened with Merlin, though Lancelot knew more than most.

"We need to talk about Merlin," said Elyan, after they'd settled down.

"He has magic, doesn't he?" asked Percival quietly. Without realising, they all looked to Lancelot. He met their questioning gazes evenly.

"Lancelot, tell me you didn't know about this," challenged Leon. They all knew his answer before gave it.

"That would be a lie. I knew before I first left Camelot, when he enchanted my lance to kill a griffin. He didn't think I'd notice," he added wryly.

"How did you know?" asked Leon.

"It lit up in blue flames. He's never been one for subtlety our Merlin." The group visibly relaxed at that. It was a relief to know that the man they thought they knew was the same, despite the secret he kept. Lancelot saw this and braced himself, about to rock the metaphorical boat.

"We can't tell Arthur." Whilst all the knights looked surprised at this, it was only Leon and Elyan who protested.

"Are you insane?" Leon demanded.

"Lancelot, he's our future king," rationalised Elyan.

Lancelot noted with relief that while they were reluctant to lie to Arthur, they hadn't said anything about not protecting Merlin because of his magic.

"We can't tell Arthur when we don't know how he would react. Merlin just saved the kingdom, it would be dishonourable to reveal his secret without at least warning him first." Lancelot kept his voice down, wary that either one of the pair could wake up. He tried to convey with his eyes how important it was that they didn't expose Merlin as a sorcerer, they still didn't have a clue about his destiny. He needn't have bothered.

At the mention of honour, Leon and Elyan looked thoughtful while Gwaine had a gleam in his eye, knowing exactly what Lancelot had done. It was something Merlin would often joke about. Lancelot was fast being recognised as the epitome of nobility to the knights of Camelot, not because of his blood but by spirit. Due to this, the knights seemed to unconsciously look to him as an example. All but Gwaine of course. Gwaine looked to someone else for that.

He'd woken up to find his best friend gripping the very fabric of reality and crumbling in the face of death. After he'd called out to him Merlin had somehow managed to gather enough strength to see it through, something in his eyes lighting up with that indefinable thing that Merlin always seemed to carry with him. They'd all known there was something about Merlin. The revelation of his magic went some way to explaining it, but there was definitely something else and Gwaine didn't think he'd ever be able to fully understand it.

The knights snapped alert at the noise of Arthur stirring. The sight that should have brought them relief brought only trepidation. It would have been so much easier if Merlin could wake up first, if only so they could know more first.

"What happened?" Arthur groaned. Lancelot, unofficially elected spokesman of the group crouched down next to the prince.

"Arthur?" he asked, analysing how alert the man was. He looked around groggily for a few moments, his eyes gradually becoming more alert. He became more confused as he only saw trees where he'd expected to see a courtyard and a terrifying witch of death.

"It is done, Arthur. The veil is closed," Lancelot reassured him. Arthur only looked more confused, his expression turning to that of horror as the words registered. He looked around frantically, searching.

"Merlin?" he called. A trace of what the knights would never admit to be fear in his voice.

"He's fine, just resting. The Cailleach read your intentions, the need for a sacrifice is only a formality. It wasn't needed for the veil to be closed. The Dorocha are gone." Lancelot was careful to keep all his words true, his sense of honour not quite allowing him to flat out lie.

Gwaine smirked at Lancelot's deception. He'd never thought he'd see the day the man would defy Arthur. Now he realised the cheeky sod had been doing it for years by keeping Merlin's secret. The man had never seemed nobler.

Arthur began to laugh, survivor's relief taking over and the realisation that once again, Camelot's downfall had been prevented. Elyan and Leon glanced at each other, the same thought entering their minds at the same time. There were many times when Arthur had that same look with Merlin tagging along behind, smiling slightly. Leon realised uneasily that they'd unintentionally built up a debt to Merlin over the years and they were only now scraping the surface to finding how far it ran.

"Why were we unconscious?" Arthur asked once he'd calmed down, slightly puzzled. The knights looked at each other uneasily.

"Both of you passed out. We thought it best to leave the isle as soon as possible," Lancelot responded smoothly. Elyan looked at the knight, slightly shocked. It was odd watching the man deceive their leader so skilfully. A bit disturbing as well. This was the man who would rule the kingdom after all.

Their concern was brushed aside when they saw Arthur stand up and start nudging the still sleeping warlock. They all took a step forward, unsure how to intervene without arising suspicion. Leon looked on a little uneasy. The man his future king was disturbing was a sorcerer. To say the whole situation was unnerving would have been an understatement. The source of everyone's attention groaned softly and frowned up at Arthur.

"What do you want?" he grumbled.

"Oh, don't mind us Merlin, you just sit back, relax! You do remember we were on a quest don't you?" Both Elyan and Leon looked like they wanted to interrupt, the irony of this typical banter now hitting them hard. Merlin smirked, a little bemused.

"It might have crossed my mind," he replied.

"You'll be pleased to know the Dorocha are gone. Do you know what else is missing, Merlin?" Arthur asked him condescendingly. Merlin shook his head slowly.

"My breakfast," Arthur uttered slowly. Merlin blinked up at him and looked over at the horses.

"Help yourself," Merlin retorted, gesturing to the saddlebags and not making a move to get up. Arthur rolled his eyes and Merlin thought he looked suitably prattish while he did so.

"What have I told you about being funny, Merlin?"

"That I shouldn't," Merlin replied frowning slightly but still retaining that amused glint in his eye. "But I just assumed the prince of Camelot would use initiative and take it upon himself to get breakfast instead of-"

"Initiative? There's a big word, you sure you know what it means?" jibed Arthur.

"Taking it upon yourself to make decisions for the benefit of all," Merlin replied, his face solemn. His eyes drifted to the knights and he tensed slightly. "Or something," he added nonchalantly. "I'll go get breakfast!" Merlin announced, scrambling to his feet. Arthur looked at him oddly before shrugging it off.

"Are you alright, Leon? You look a little tense," Arthur asked, brow creasing in concern. The knight nodded, still looking slightly perturbed.

"Yes, sire. Everything's…fine." He frowned slightly as he watched Gwaine subtly ambling over to Merlin and the horses. The knight winked at him over Arthur's shoulder, a determined look on his face.

Merlin was fiddling with the saddlebags with a look of concentration. He was trying to remember what happened after he'd closed the veil. He remembered being cold and a voice calling out to him…only it hadn't sounded like Lancelot…

"Merlin!" greeted Gwaine. He jumped slightly, almost dropping the bread. Gwaine quirked his eyebrows, looking slightly amused but still intense. Merlin looked at him, analysing in his head what this expression could mean for him.

"Hey Gwaine," he acknowledged. The knight still stared at him unwaveringly, as if waiting for something.

"You're staring at me," Merlin pointed out, uneasy. Gwaine's grin widened and his expression suddenly seemed to become more predatory.

"How did you get rid of Nimueh?" Gwaine asked, innocently.

"I was wondering that too." Merlin spun round to see Percival behind him. He glanced between them and smiled nervously.

"Who's Nimueh?" he mumbled, unsure why he was still denying it, his mind racing to figure out how they could possibly know about her.

"The last high priestess of the Old Religion, apparently." Merlin spun round again to see Elyan on the other side of the horse, removing the bags that Merlin had been fiddling with earlier. The horse began to shift, uneasy at so many people being around it. Merlin empathised completely.

"Doesn't ring a bell!" he insisted, his voice noticeably higher. He snatched a waterskin from the bags but Gwaine grabbed his arm before he could move past. Gwaine realised that he had never figured Merlin out. Through his indignation at having his friend lie to him to his face the look on Merlin's face stopped him. He looked alarmed but in his eyes was a terrible fear. Gwaine's eyes widened in shock and something broke inside him to see that fear in his friend's eyes. His senseless fingers let go of Merlin's arm and let him stumble away.

Leon looked like he made to follow but Gwaine stopped him, shaking his head at the knight's questioning look. He watched Merlin stumble away and couldn't help but notice the tense line of his shoulders or the almost crushed bread in his hand. It seems that confronting Merlin wouldn't be so simple after all.

"What are we on rations, Merlin?" protested Arthur, looking slightly disgusted at the crushed piece of bread and half empty waterskin that had been dropped in his lap.

"No, just you," Merlin bantered, half heartedly. Elyan watched him cautiously. He hadn't known what to expect when they began hinting that they knew more than they let on. The tense nervousness that surrounded Merlin was somewhat expected. Yet as shaken as he was by their encounter, his wary glances barely passed their way.

Tense and bracing himself, Merlin was watching the forest.

BriefShiningMoment

Not much, but a promise. This is no longer a oneshot! The middle is a work in progress but there is an end Watch this space.


	3. The fury

KittyO, Alaia Skyhawk, Volcanic Plug I LOVE WHAT YOU WRITE AND I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU REVIEWED! O.O. I saw them and I was just flailing around and my sister just looked over with _that look_. Hehe. Ok, squeals over and done with. I hope you like this

~~XXBADASS!MERLINXX~~

To say that Merlin was nervous may turn out to be an understatement. The thought of anyone knowing his secret had always been one born of terror. As a young boy, his mother had constantly been in fear of his life, finding it difficult to let him out of her sight. He'd developed that fear to a certain degree. Yet it wasn't fear for his life that had haunted his steps in his years at Camelot. Of course, that had still been there, the knowledge that he could die was always present, but he could die for any number of reasons. He rarely thought that Arthur would kill him. Banish him? Probably. No, he wasn't afraid of execution.

It was just the idea of people knowing. It would change everything. He hadn't truly known Lancelot or Gaius when they'd found out. He couldn't deny that having them around was invaluable both to his secret and for his peace of mind. They never treated him differently because they'd always known. The thought of his character coincided with the fact that he had magic. He'd changed their views on magic before his magic could change their view of him.

Arthur and the knights didn't have that perspective. In Camelot all they'd known was the dangers of magic, the corruption of sorcerers and the temptation of power. To be associated with something that caused so much fear and unrest saddened Merlin. He didn't want anything to do with it. To think that the knights were now doing just that scared Merlin in a way he hadn't considered before. It was too soon. If they knew, surely it was only a matter of time before Arthur did.

It wasn't this realisation that had Merlin tense. He could feel something in the air. The presence of the Dorocha had caused many creatures to hide away, and more to come to the surface, like the Vilia. The tearing and subsequent healing of the veil and caused unrest in the magic of the land. Using senses he barely knew he possessed, Merlin could feel the reverberations in the land around him. More importantly, he could sense disturbances that were far too close to their camp for comfort. And they didn't seem friendly. Focusing, he tried to pinpoint exactly what it was. His eyes widened.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding," he groaned.

"Are you calling me fat?" demanded Arthur, frowning. Merlin didn't bother responding, instead launching himself into the air. Arthur gaped at his friend in astonishment as he, in spectacular Merlin fashion, appeared to dive into a bush. In watching the strange spectacle he didn't see his knights move forward, hands moving to their sword hilts. He didn't see the horses sidle nervously and pull at their lead reins. What he did see, was the blur of green eyes and razor claws landing on the earth where Merlin had been standing.

Arthur wasted no time in drawing his sword and beginning to advance on the creature, trusting his knights to fall in behind him. Small as a child, spindly limbs protruded from a hunched torso. Its legs were twice the size of its arms, the reason why it was able to jump so far. Arthur analysed it, figuring that it couldn't have much of an upper body strength, which it made up for by its vicious curved claws. Its head had a similar structure to a dog, or a rat but with teeth to match its claws. Its eyes glowed slightly and it seemed to pay no attention to the knights, instead whipping its head around, searching for its first target which, Arthur realised with a chill, was Merlin.

He began frantically searching for his wayward friend but he needn't have bothered. At that moment, the said man vaulted over a hedge with a rock in his hand. Arthur cursed inwardly, about to wonder whether the few brain cells Merlin retained included any form of self preservation.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted out in warning. The creature whipped its head around in time to see Merlin drop to the floor. Arthur found himself once again looking on in bewilderment as another beast shot over Merlin's crouched form and barrelled into the other, sending them both to the ground in a snarling mass of limbs.

Charging forward, Arthur and Leon took the lead in attacking the two on the floor, using the chaos to their advantage. By sheer luck, the one Arthur lashed at moved just as his sword came down, the blade catching its arm. A hideous screeching shot through Arthur's ears and with a speed that he almost couldn't follow, the creature faced him and shot its hand out. An invisible force crashed into him and forced him back through the air.

It was at this point that Merlin realised he was really in trouble. That uneasy feeling in his gut had once again proven to be warranted. If each of these creatures had magic it would take more than stones and swords to fight them off. Seeing Leon in danger of being attacked he hurled his rock as hard as he could.

"Astrice," he muttered, eyes focused on the creature. Just as the rock hit, the beast was thrown back violently away from the startled Leon. Merlin frowned in concentration as he watched the other knights begin to circle the other creatures. It came as little surprise to Merlin that after his attacker was defeated Leon looked to him without hesitation. Leon's eyes widened.

"Merlin, look out!"

Before he could even twitch to look behind him, Merlin felt another creature slam into him. Blazing white agony ripped into him as he could feel the claws and teeth tear at his back. A strange shriek filled the air that Merlin vaguely realised was his own in his chaotic thoughts. His first thoughts were a frantic _getitoffgetitoffnow! _But always there, the need to control his magic and keep it hidden caused him to immediately quash down the rising tide of power in him.

Left with no other option, he struggled frantically on the ground, scrabbling at the earth for something, _anything_ he could use. Relief crashed through him as his hand made contact with something he could grab on to. He wildly swung back, barely registering how heavy the thing was until it crashed into his attacker enough for it to reel backwards.

Dragging himself away, he picked himself up brandishing his new found weapon before he even realised what it was. For a moment, he stared confused at the sword he now held in his hands, briefly wondering if it had fallen out of the sky. Unable to spot the creature that had gone for him, he began searching for Arthur and the knights. He blinked in surprise to see them all standing there, looking tense. It was then that he spotted the others.

There were four of them, surrounding the knights in a ring, each with their arms outstretched in front of the barrier between the two groups. He saw Leon without his sword, and he realised it must be the one he was holding and he felt grateful. It wasn't often he was repaid for saving a life, but Merlin couldn't be more thankful that he had this sword now.

The good side was that he didn't need to keep an eye on Arthur, they weren't going anywhere after all. The bad side was that now, all the attention was on him. He couldn't just throw them around, send a sneaky javelin or drop a branch. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he realised he'd have to fight with a sword. It's not like he couldn't do it, he had stormed a castle before after all. Admittedly he had a little help but it couldn't be that hard…could it?

The same instincts that warned him of their presence had him dodging to the side and swiping his sword in the air. He stumbled slightly at the sudden weight on the blade but noticed in satisfaction that the creature now had one less arm to claw with. Flashing his eyes, he slowed down time enough to give him the reflexes needed to attack again and decapitate the beast. He only had a moment to take in the green smoke streaming out of the carcass before it hit him.

Merlin staggered back. Barely able to hang onto his sword, his vision was blotted out. He could feel the essence seep into him, pulling at his skin and tearing into his head. It tried to drag him down, weaken him enough to fall to the ground and let his sword slip through senseless fingers. Merlin blinked and gripped his sword tightly. With that horrible weakness running through him he only just managed to lift his sword in time to meet another weight. He managed to register the sensation of liquid running down his face before that mist crashed through him again, sending him to his knees. The need to lash out at the essence filled him and the words formed in his head. With another desperate shove he forced it back down, all too aware of the other knights, not to mention Arthur.

The essence surrounding him and his own adrenaline fading away let him become all too aware of his wounds. His pain in his back seared through him now, reaching down his arms and through his pounding head making it almost impossible to notice anything else. He remembered the feel of the creature on him and the desperation for that to not happen again gave him enough strength to lift his head. The mist was fading faster than the previous one and he felt the power over his own body returning. Standing up and still gripping the sword he hadn't dropped, Merlin searched for the beasts.

He spotted three of them, further away than he remembered, their green eyes glaring at him with terrible intensity. A chill passed through him when he saw the barrier between them and the knights had fallen. It was then that he saw the fourth one. It stood over an unconscious Arthur, its claws resting on his neck, its eyes locked with Merlin's.

The other four knights watched Merlin's eyes rest with panic and concern on Arthur. The fondness of their scarcely mentioned but always present friendship laid open for all to see. The sudden shift as they flickered up to the creature threatening his prince, watching those warm eyes change to burning steel was terrifying - even more so to see that protective fury coming from _Merlin._

"Release him," Merlin commanded, his voice ringing with power. A mortal man would have been intimidated by the dark glare Merlin was giving.

"Stay back, shield bearer," the creature hissed, its claw shifting along Arthur's throat. Merlin realised dimly that the others weren't attacking, content to circle round him like cornered prey. He tightened his grip on his sword.

"What do you want?" Merlin demanded.

"Your light," it spat, relishing the word with fear and desire. "The light you hide from uss." Merlin glared at the creature threatening Arthur with an unreadable expression.

"Alright," he replied, his voice deadly calm. He threw Leon's sword to the side without taking his eyes off the creature.

"Come and get it."

BriefShiningMoment

Hehehe.


	4. Anyone know a warlock?

Sorry about that tease, but I literally didn't have anything else written. Hence the wait…But hey, more badass XD

XX:MERLIN:XX

Merlin dimly heard panicked protests from the knights that he promptly disregarded as unimportant. They wanted to know what he'd done, what he was capable of. They were about to find out, so really they should be grateful, Merlin thought to himself.

The world around him shifted in time, so that everything moved slowly; beautifully and terribly slowly. That was how it felt anyway. Merlin then did the most natural thing in the world. He let the magic that had been roiling in unrest beneath his skin, breathe out. At seeing his eyes light up the surrounding creatures, including the one next to Arthur charged his way all at once. Merlin smiled slightly as soon as he saw Arthur safe and unconscious. Just the way he liked him.

His gaze moved back to the snarling creatures flying through the air, still looking to be ridiculously slow. Whether it was because he'd slowed down time or his adrenaline rush had reached new heights, Merlin didn't care. What did matter was that underestimation was once again working in his favour. The creatures knew to attack leaving no time for a sorcerer to utter an incantation. It was one of the rare moments in Merlin's life, that he could be thankful he was a warlock. That and the fact that seeing Arthur in danger had made him angry.

It took merely a brief flash of his eyes to send a force out and throw the creatures back. The moment when they were still in flight gave Merlin enough time to go on the offensive.

"Lyft, hiersumie mie. Arisan thodenbaerne, ferian fyr!" As he spoke a wind blew fierce, surrounding him and picking up each of his attackers in the gale. Flames sparked in the air, not fizzling out in the wind, but growing in intensity until Merlin was surrounded in a ring of fire. He kept it up for as long as he could stand the heat. When he saw the air around him shimmer he released his hold.

And found his impressive spell had done absolutely nothing. Slightly dizzy, the creatures got up from the ground, not even singed, but now very irritated. Obviously they weren't in any way related to afancs. Quickly scanning the area he saw a few branches had broken off in the previous gale and he fixed on them in his mind.

"Bregdan anweald firgenholt!" he commanded, sending four of the blazing blue weapons forward. The first one slammed into a creature, sending it reeling. One missed. One of the branches halted in midair. The last creature caught the spear, moving in a blur and sending the weapon Merlin's way. He ducked as fast as he was able, halted as the sudden movement pulled at his back, causing Merlin to cry out. The branch clipped his shoulder, spreading numbness down his arm. Off balance, Merlin met the ground.

It was then that he felt the burning mist meet him again. Immediately, he clamped down on his magic, holding it tight, allowing the essence to move through him unchallenged. It was then that the others chose to attack. Merlin felt a horrible rushing sensation as he was picked up and thrown back. His back's collision with a tree knocked all the breath out of him, leaving no room in his lungs for him to scream as the beasts claws dug into his chest. Keeping his magic from retaliating now burned almost as much as the mist did. He could feel the dark magic from the creature's talons digging deep into him with lethal intensity.

Merlin opened eyes he hadn't realised were closed and met the terrifying gaze of those green bestial eyes. The anger didn't come this time. This was his fight, not Arthur's; instead he felt a cold detachment. He knew this wasn't a fight he was willing to lose. Whatever the beast saw in his eyes was enough to make it pause. He didn't realise he'd gathered any magic until power burst from him in a blaze of heat.

For a moment, Merlin didn't register anything. A bright light flashed before his eyes long after the magic itself had gone. His head rushed, allowing no sound to get to him as he stood in the eye of a storm of his own making. When he came back, he found himself staring at his hand, recognising dimly the source of the blast. Merlin looked up blearily, wondering when the green mist would come for him again, only to find that the air was beautifully fresh and clear. Looking around, he couldn't even see the body of the creature that attacked him. The last two were stock still, perhaps hoping he wouldn't spot them, some survival instinct finally warning them just who they were attacking.

Merlin's eyes became fixed on them as he stepped forward from his tree and flicked his wrist, a bright blue light hiding his hand from view. At this, the beasts turned tail and attempted to run for the trees, their powerful legs carrying them far from the skinny warlock. Yet not fast enough. They'd barely made it half way across the clearing before two simultaneous blasts of power overtook them, killing the beasts before they attempted to kill anyone else.

Merlin staggered and realised that his hand was wet when he put it on his chest. His sigh of relief that the creatures were finally gone changed to a groan as his injuries made themselves known. He took in a deep breath and concentrated, not willing to rest before he knew for certain.

"Merlin, you're hurt," said a voice. Gwaine looked over his friend, horrified at the amount of blood that covered him. Most of the blood from the cut in his cheek had run down to his neckerchief and stained it darker. The glimpse he'd gotten of Merlin's back didn't even bear thinking about and his chest…

"Merlin?" Gwaine called, not certain whether Merlin was conscious enough to hear him. His eyes were unfocused, his body leaning to the side slightly. Gwaine was taken aback as Merlin's head snapped up, his eyes fixed somewhere in the middle distance, hardly seeming to notice the knight. He actually took a step backwards when he saw his friend raise his hand up in his direction, that unnerving not-quite-there look in his eyes. Gwaine found himself gazing at the face of his friend, wondering if the Merlin he knew still existed.

"Move aside," Merlin said in a smooth voice. Following his friend's orders without question, Gwaine managed to turn around in time to see a dark blur being intercepted by a golden net. Instead of vanishing into thin air, this one fell to the ground, unable to move with a stony faced warlock towering above it.

"How many of you are there?" Merlin demanded. The creature snarled, struggling against invisible bonds on the ground.

"More," it croaked, maliciously. Merlin's expression didn't change an inch.

"Where are you from?"

The beast growled, seemingly unwilling to answer. The noises were cut off as Merlin's hand shifted forwards an inch, strangling it with air alone. After a time, the creature gasped and Merlin tilted his head to the side, still waiting.

"From beyond," it hissed wickedly.

"Beyond," Merlin repeated quietly, nodding to himself, his eyes drifting slightly to the side as he briefly contemplated what that might mean. His eyes snapped back to the creature underneath him.

"Best you go back there, then," Merlin said calmly, sending another blue bolt and causing the creature to disappear completely. Gwaine could only blink in astonishment.

"Arthur?" called Lancelot urgently. Hearing that, Merlin whipped around, reaching the prince in a flash. Gwaine followed, still slightly stunned about the continuous changes in his friend. Only able to tell himself he'd think about it later, Gwaine focused on the current cause for concern.

"Stay back, Merlin," ordered Leon firmly. The man in question ignored the knight, instead beginning to closely examine Arthur with a slight glow to his eyes. Leon glared slightly. Percival and Elyan realised that Leon hadn't spent an awful lot of time away from Camelot, to other lands where magic was more common. Yet even they hadn't expected their fellow knight to be so arrogant as to assume that swords held much intimidation for a man who could defeat high Priestesses and summon flaming whirlwinds of doom.

"Leon," Elyan warned softly. Merlin looked up at the knight, ignoring the blade that hovered inches from his throat.

"He's been hurt," Merlin said, worry flooding through him. Leon glanced down briefly before meeting the warlock's gaze once more, sword still between them.

"A mere scratch," Leon answered, acknowledging the slight injury across Arthur's shoulder with no concern.

"This scratch could kill him," Merlin muttered, leaning forwards and moving his hand to rest over the wound. He was stopped at last by the knight when Leon refused to move his sword out of the way, the weapon now threatening to cut into Merlin's neck. Merlin became absolutely still and all the knights tensed as they watched him. Slowly, he lifted his head up to meet Leon's gaze again, his expression blank but his eyes pierced into the knight.

"Leon, if you've ever trusted me with Arthur's life, if you've ever held any kind of respect for the man I am you will let me do this. He needs to be healed now and somehow I doubt herbs and potions will work," Merlin told him bluntly. Leon faltered. If it had been any other sorcerer he wouldn't have thought twice about arresting him. But this was Merlin, and if Leon's suspicions were correct, they already owed him their lives many times over, the difference being this time it was happening with his knowledge and depended on his consent.

It grated against old instincts to lower his sword and allow a sorcerer to perform magic. Yet part of himself couldn't help but be fascinated in the power Merlin seemed to possess. Not wasting any time, Merlin immediately leant forward again placing his hands on Arthur's wounded shoulder.

"Ic abiede thaet the alyse," he muttered forcibly. A glow filled Merlin's hands, his eyes blazing for many minutes. His brow furrowed in concentration and as the time passed, his breathing became increasingly laboured. It became obvious to those gathered that this wasn't a simple wound. Finally, Merlin pulled away, gasping and shuddering weakly, turned away from the knights. Leon checked Arthur and saw, although the wound remained and he was still unconscious, he no longer looked pale and sickly and had already recovered partly. Just in case, he checked him for concussion and any other injury.

Satisfied, he looked up to thank Merlin, only to stop short. Merlin looked terrible. Lancelot crouched next to him, gripping his shoulder and ascertaining how bad he was because gods knew, Merlin would never admit it himself.

"Arthur, is he alright?" he mumbled quietly.

"He's fine, Merlin we need to get you to a healer," Lancelot realised, worriedly. It was perhaps, a testament to how dire the situation was that Merlin merely nodded in agreement.

"I apologise Merlin." The warlock's head shot up in surprise to regard the knight. Leon met his gaze sincerely. "I am grateful for what you have done today and all the other days. I admit I panicked earlier and you didn't deserve my suspicions." By the end of this heartfelt apology, Merlin couldn't meet Leon's eyes, turning away in shame.

"Yes, I did. I've lied to you for near a decade," Merlin admitted quietly, feeling slightly sick at the realisation that this was the first time he'd properly confirmed he was a sorcerer.

"What were those things?" Elyan asked, gazing uneasily at the three corpses that surrounded them. Merlin got to his feet with the help of Lancelot and began making his way to the horses. Gwaine made to follow, picking up discarded bags and waterskins as they broke camp.

"No idea," Merlin answered tiredly. "I've never heard of anything like them," he continued, only glad that they wouldn't trouble them any longer. He warily looked around for some wood to tap on as that thought crossed his mind.

"I don't understand it," Leon said, gazing at the dead creatures in confusion. "If you were their target, why did they waste energy keeping us back?" he asked, thinking out loud more than seeking an answer.

Merlin looked at him oddly as he leant on his horse. "What do you mean?"

"There was a barrier keeping us from getting to you. I don't understand why they'd use magic to keep us there, when they could have gotten rid of us and concentrated on you," Leon explained, a little uncomfortable at the blatant knowledge that Merlin was the greatest threat. Merlin shifted, also beginning to look uncomfortable.

"Once I saw they had magic and they were after you, I knew I couldn't protect all of you discreetly." Leon looked up at Merlin, realisation dawning. Merlin frowned, not seeing Leon's reaction and continuing. "Except it wasn't strong enough-"

"The barrier was you?" Elyan interrupted, looking shocked. Merlin glanced briefly at the knight and noted with relief that he didn't look repulsed by the knowledge.

"Yes," Merlin confirmed, going slightly red at all the attention he was getting. Lancelot was watching his gratefully, which Merlin was used to, it wasn't the first time he'd seen him protecting the knights. Gwaine watched him intensely, puzzling through something in his head while Leon and Elyan just stared, speechless. Percival was focused on carrying Arthur to his horse, but still nodded his gratitude, succeeding in making Merlin redden further.

"You can't be a sorcerer," Gwaine stated. The group were torn between watching Merlin with awe or Gwaine with confusion. The knight was still staring at Merlin, a slight frown betraying his own. Merlin looked at him curiously.

"I know sorcerers, I've seen them fight and they don't fight like that," Gwaine continued, still completely unsure exactly what he was pointing out. There was a reason he couldn't think of Merlin as a sorcerer, even now he knew the man had magic, it still didn't sound right.

"Know any warlocks?" Merlin quipped. Gwaine shook his head.

"You do now."

BriefShiningMoment

Spells:

_Lyft, hiersumie mie. Arisan thodenbaerne, ferian fyr!_ Air, hear me. Arise burning wind, bring fire!

_Bregdan anweald firgenholt_! Branch, move with power!

_Ic abiede thaet the alyse_. I proclaim that you be freed.


	5. A nice cold tankard of mead

The village of Kebul lay between the road and the woods, some say too close to both. The road gave them trade in abundance, whether there were merchants or travellers passing through. Although the danger of highwaymen was a very real one, as was the risk of bandits, they had several men with the knowledge of how to take care of themselves. It was with some surprise that the innkeeper looked out his window and saw a group of knights come from the trees.

Never being one to underestimate the high standing of his guests and despite the fact that they wore colours he didn't recognise, Howell rushed out to greet them. One seemed to be unconscious though there were no other signs of battle on them. Casting his gaze along the group of knights again he saw behind them on a black horse, one who didn't wear armour or red cloak and he'd missed at first glance.

"Anwen! Someone, fetch Ann we've got wounded!" he called, making his way forward to catch the party's attention. The knights looked fit and healthy but emotionally weary. Howell briefly wondered whether the seventh man was simply in disguise but dismissed those thoughts when he got closer, genuine concern for the man taking over.

"Sirs, what happened!" he exclaimed. The injured man glanced over to Howell before his gaze slid away again, unable to focus on anything else for long because of the obvious pain he was in. He leant on his horse at an odd angle, slumped but not curled in to his chest, as if he couldn't physically move further forward. Howell briefly considered the possibility of broken ribs. Hasty bandages were evident underneath the tears in his clothes, blood staining his shirt.

Howell hastily rushed them through to his stables, calling to anyone who would listen to clear out three rooms, get some fresh cloths, water and food. As it was noon, many people had stopped for lunch and he knew plenty of people would be willing to help. In a village such as this and especially in recent times, people quickly learnt to depend on one another. Leading the group of men through to the back rooms, the large man carried his unconscious comrade up the stairs. Howell cleared off a table downstairs and gestured for them to lead their injured man there as Anwen arrived.

"Beasts attacked him," one of the knights explained solemnly. Wounds clearly made by claws marked the man's torso in a grotesque design. Anwen quickly got to work, mixing a salve and holding her hand over the man's wound. She flinched back as the man groaned harshly, his back arching painfully against the cot he lay on. Unable to stand seeing anyone in pain, Anwen came forward again, moving to place her hand on the man's chest. His hand shot up and gripped her wrist, halting her.

"No magic," he bit out in protest.

"You will not be harmed," Howell reassured him. The man shook his head, not letting go.

"The wounds are too many, the risk is too high. I have to heal you with magic," Anwen insisted.

"You can't. Anwen, right?" The healer nodded as the man continued. "The talons had some kind of poison and it's after my magic. Anwen, it's taking everything I have to keep mine at bay. If you use your magic, you won't get it back and I can't let that happen." He let go of her hand as Anwen pulled back, a mixture of horror and frustration on her face.

"What can I do?"

"Something for the pain?" he suggested with a shy half smile. Howell frowned slightly. This man didn't dress like a knight but he didn't act like a servant either. Howell wondered at the relationship of these wandering knights with the injured sorcerer. They were concerned Howell could see, but there was an underlying tension that he couldn't understand.

"Your friend will be looked after, I assure you. Come through, we have some food prepared, if you care to tell me just what attacked you? We need to be aware of any dangers in the forest, you understand," Howell explained hastily, not wanting to make it seem he was prying. The group nodded tiredly and followed him to the front rooms where he requested tankards of mead for the four knights and himself. A weary silence fell among the group and none of them seemed willing to talk.

"I am Howell, owner of this inn," he began, eager to get the introductions out of the way.

"Lancelot," responded the short dark haired knight, with a small nod. "Gwaine," he continued, gesturing to the rugged knight to his left. "Elyan," the knight in question raising his tankard to Howell before drinking, "and Leon."

"Thank you for helping us," Leon said gratefully. Howell waved away his thanks.

"We depend on each other in this village, whether it be dangers of the road or the forest, we need to know about them. What are a few coins to aid travellers if the news they bring saves the life of a child? Tell me about these beasts, for I fear I may know of them." Gwaine turned to face Howell fully with narrowed eyes.

"You know of these creatures?"

"Perhaps," Howell frowned, memories of the past week running through his head.

"Our village has been plagued since the turn of Samhain by beasts of the darkest nature," Howell began. He saw the other knights start to pay full attention, just as the fifth, larger man came to join them. "They come without warning, hunting after our sorcerers." He noted how some of the knights flinched at the mention of magic users, some glancing to the back room, where they'd left the injured man. "They kill all who stand in their way, never stopping until they reach a sorcerer and…take their magic."

"Take it?" repeated Lancelot, aghast. Howell nodded gravely.

"Gavin and Elwyn, may they rest well, managed to kill two of them. But the spirits rose from the corpses and drained the will from them. They were overpowered. We have precious few sorcerers left for our protection when they come again."

"They won't," Gwaine said bluntly, draining the rest of his tankard. "Merlin killed them."

"I don't understand," Howell said, shocked. "You believe the beasts that attacked your friend are the same?"

"Nasty little buggers, creepy green eyes, using magic, talking a load of rubbish about taking light," the knight surmised. Howell considered this and realised that it could indeed be possible that this one sorcerer had done what the village could not.

"The creatures that attacked us killed any who stood in their way, yet the only one of you seriously wounded is a sorcerer, correct?" Elyan choked slightly on his drink, Leon turning his gaze away. Howell watched their reactions and filed them away to consider later.

"Yes," confirmed Lancelot, with a careful glance to his companions. "Merlin stopped the creatures from attacking us." Howell blinked in surprise.

"While confronting them himself? Did he understand the risks?"

"Risk?" interjected Gwaine forcefully.

"To shield all of you would take a large amount of power, yet alone to defend himself with magic as well. I thought you'd know this," he answered with some confusion. There was an awkward pause.

"We're from Camelot," Lancelot admitted quietly. Howell worriedly looked around, noting that there was no one within earshot with mild relief.

"You are knights of Camelot? I wasn't aware sorcery was legal there," Howell said uneasily.

"It's not," Leon said with a frown. Lancelot, perhaps seeing Howell's utter bewilderment saw fit to explain their situation further.

"An enemy of Camelot opened the veil, releasing the Dorocha," he began. "Prince Arthur rode out to make a deal with the Cailleach to seal it knowing that she'd ask a life in return." Howell listened with rapt attention, noticing that the other knights listened to him as well, as if hearing the tale for the first time. "Merlin kept Arthur back, stopping him from giving his own life and challenged the Cailleach. She disappeared and Merlin closed the veil himself. We came in just as he used magic to recover only, the others didn't know he had magic at the time." Howell stared in shock.

"The skulled spirits are gone? Truly?" he breathed, unable to take it in. Lancelot offered him a small smile and Howell held his head in his hands. The village of Kebul had been in a state of terror since Samhain, attacked at night by spirits of the dead and attacked by day from abominations. Most had feared that it meant the end of days. For it all to be gone, for the deeds of a single man was more than Howell could comprehend. He didn't notice the tears that filled his vision until they fell into his hands. Hastily scraping them away, he let out a shaky laugh.

"Your friend is truly one of legend," Howell commented, jubilant as the weight that had hung over them all disappeared like smoke. It took him a while to notice the discomfort his words had caused and he sobered quickly.

"Surely the prince will see that magic isn't something to be condemned for?" he asked incredulously.

"Prince Arthur doesn't know," Elyan answered shortly. "He was unconscious and we haven't…been able to speak to him or Merlin about it." Howell leaned forward with an intense look.

"He can stay here. Tell the prince Merlin perished or disappeared," he stopped as Lancelot shook his head.

"Merlin is loyal to Arthur. He's always protecting him, believing in him. It made him feel his magic had a purpose, that he wasn't cursed." Howell watched Lancelot carefully. His words seemed to be not so much directed at him, but to his fellow knights. It had the desired effect. Leon, who seemed to be the most apprehensive, was looking at Lancelot in shock while Gwaine looked more resolute. Elyan and the large knight, Percival were hard to read but Howell was suddenly grateful for Lancelot. No matter how much Howell would praise their saviour, they obviously took their companions' words to heart.

"What will you do?" asked Howell, curiously. There was a pause as each knight either became deep in thought, or studied the reaction of their comrades.

"Merlin has always stood by us in the past," Elyan spoke up. He steadily met the gazes of his fellow knights. "There's no way we can tell the king."

"Tell the king what?" Arthur demanded.

BriefShiningMoment

Very much a filler, sorry! I've got a couple more chapters planned, just wanted to post this to let you know I'm still around

Howell - Alert One.

Anwen -Very Beautiful.

Elwyn – Fair Friend

Gavin – Little Hawk


	6. In which rocks are metaphors

It came at him fast, a fearsome creature with its teeth bared, its eyes piercing into him with grotesque glee. Its claws reached forward, the talons strong and curved to tear into Arthur's chest.

With a yell, Arthur was jolted from sleep, scrabbling for his sword. Panic rose as he couldn't find it strapped to his waist before he realised he was alone. He looked around in confusion.

The room was bare and small, two beds crammed in, the other loaded with what Arthur recognised as their bags of equipment. He winced and put a hand to the back of his head, dimly noting that what little blood had been there had long since dried. He puzzled through in his head all that he could remember beyond the creature that attacked him, one particular image growing in his mind. One of the beasts crouching quite far away and for a moment, Arthur wondered why the thought of a beast far away caused this…unease to grow.

Until he realised this memory of a beast was crouching on top of a man, its claws digging deep and Merlin's _scream._

"Merlin," he muttered, rushing out of the room. Seeing other rooms with plain doors, Arthur noted he was in a tavern or inn, quickly searching for the stairs. He hurtled down them, picking out familiar voices with relief and slowing down once he saw his knights sitting quite relaxed in a hushed conversation with a man he didn't recognise.

"There's no way we can tell the king," Elyan said firmly. Arthur frowned.

"Tell the king what?" he demanded. "Where's Merlin?" he added, failing to keep all traces of concern out of his voice. He noticed how each man turned to him with varying degrees of surprise, yet none appeared to disagree with Elyan's statement. Arthur narrowed his eyes suspiciously. The man he didn't recognise stood up.

"Your Highness," he greeted respectfully. Arthur nodded his head courteously, never one to forget his manners. "Merlin is being well cared for by my niece. She will do everything she can." Arthur let out a small sigh in relief before his eyes hardened.

"May I ask what's going on here?" Howell ducked his head.

"My name is Howell and I must ask your forgiveness. This is a rather delicate matter." Arthur didn't see the worried glances between his knights. He was watching Howell with an arched eyebrow.

"Go on," Arthur said. Howell's eyes flitted to the floor and back up again with a steady gaze.

"I am a sorcerer." Arthur didn't step back or flinch away. Encouraged by this, Howell continued. "I came across your group in the forest being attacked. I went as part of a group, hunting those very creatures. They have terrorised our village, killing many. We managed to chase them off but not before they injured your friend." Arthur paused, considering Howell's words with a slight frown. After a moment he looked up again and met the man's gaze steadily.

"I owe you a debt, Howell. By any means, this village is outside Camelot's jurisdiction, it would be… unwise to trouble my father of such details." Arthur didn't miss the relieved look in Howell's eyes.

"Sire," Howell said, bowing. He turned to the knights and bowed to them also, "Sir knights." Arthur watched the man walk away and sat down, relaxing into his seat.

"Arthur are you…?" began Leon halting. "Well that is…."

"Am I sure about allowing a group of sorcerers to roam unchecked?" Arthur finished, gazing steadily at the knight. "Tell me something Leon, do you believe all magic is evil?" Leon looked startled.

"I couldn't possibly presume to disagree with the king-"

"So you disagree?" Arthur interrupted with a gleam in his eye. Leon looked scandalised.

"That would be treason," Leon said urgently, his words almost a whisper.

"To have an opinion?" Arthur retorted with a raised eyebrow. "Humour me Leon. Do you believe that of all the magic users, creatures and druids there isn't a single one with good in them?" Leon looked around at the other knights, completely flabbergasted at having this conversation. They looked back at him, their expressions unreadable but Gwaine and Lancelot both had a smile tugging at their lips. Leon's gaze finally flitted to the door over Arthur's shoulder, behind which lay an undeniably good man.

"No," Leon finally answered. Arthur nodded to himself while the knights gave Leon reassuring looks.

"Then magic can't be completely evil, can it?" Arthur said logically. Lancelot had to fight to keep the smile from escaping. Elyan relaxed muscles he hadn't realised were tense as he thought maybe he didn't have to choose his loyalties after all. Percival calmed down, relaxing into his bench with his tankard, at peace.

"Now you're talking sense, someone get this man a tankard!" Gwaine called out, grinning. Arthur chuckled slightly before frowning.

"You're all taking this rather well," he commented. He noticed the others sharing looks and filed the observation away for later. It looked like they'd discussed this before…

"We're behind you Arthur, every step of the way," Elyan said. Arthur smiled in appreciation for the comment, not failing to notice how it didn't really answer his question.

Looking around at each knight carefully, Arthur realised that he'd missed something, which he couldn't help but find odd. Each knight seemed to already know the other's opinion on magic. These knights in particular had always seemed to be more like brothers to him, the last people he expected to treat him differently because of his title. Yet, their reactions suggested that they didn't find it necessary to share their opinions and Arthur couldn't think of any other reason than the one that had plagued him his whole life.

He was different. The future king of Camelot. And as much as he considered his knights to be his greatest friends and brothers, there were still boundaries and Arthur felt it like a kick in the gut now that he'd found them.

He needed to find Merlin.

XX;MERLIN:XX

Anwen quietly closed the door on the sleeping sorcerer, drying her hands with a cloth. Merlin was in no danger for now, having fallen into a much needed sleep after the day's trials. From what she could gather this man was good and she was thankful that they had come here. Not many villages had a resident healer, not having anyone to obtain the knowledge from. She had left her mother's guidance in the hope of finding a life for herself in Kebul with her uncle. The road had brought many to her aid, travellers who had been ambushed by highwaymen, peasants and noble alike who had fallen ill on their journey.

And now this man. She hadn't wanted to press but her natural curiosity itched for answers. Answers she knew, Howell would have gotten.

"Ann," hissed a voice. Tucking her cloth into a pocket she spun round to see her uncle coming down the corridor. He gently gripped her arm and took a glance over her shoulder at the door that held her patient.

"How is he, Merlin, is he alright?" he asked, an almost reverent look on his face. Anwen's curiosity peaked, now certain that this wasn't an ordinary tale.

"He's sleeping. The dark magic in him seems to be fading, his wounds will heal in time with rest and proper care. Of course the risk of infection is awful but once the magic in him truly fades he should be fine," Anwen hurriedly surmised. "What happened?" she demanded, eyes wide.

"The Haunts, he killed them. They're all gone," he whispered, his eyes shining with sincerity and wonder. Anwen gaped at him.

"No one's ever survived their spirits," she responded numbly.

"He did. Ann," he said, gripping her shoulders with tears in his eyes. "They aren't the only spirits he survived. They're all gone," he continued with a piercing look.

"All of them? But then he must be…" she trailed off, awe filling every word.

"Only he can tell us if he is," sighed Howell, glancing towards the door before regretfully turning away. The time for questions would come, for now that wasn't his place. That would be the right of the blond warrior heading their way.

"Merlin's in there, sire," Howell said, indicating to the door. Arthur nodded in thanks before continuing on his way, breathing in a deep breath before pushing the door open. Under a blanket, Merlin lay still on a table on the far wall and Arthur wondered how comfortable Merlin could really be laying on the hard surface. He must be truly exhausted, Arthur thought guiltily, about to turn away and come back later but he paused, frozen.

Seeing his friend curled up on his side facing the wall, Arthur was once again cruelly reminded of Merlin's state after the Dorocha attacked. He'd seen him in that very position after being hurtled at a wall and had feared for his life, a fist gripping his heart and pressing down on his throat. Arthur had never known any fear like it. Before he could stop himself, Arthur was already rushing across to his injured servant and gripping his shoulder.

"Merlin," he called, peering over the man's shoulder to get a look at his face. Relief crashed through him as he saw no frosted white skin, blue lips or staring eyes. Arthur just had enough time to take in the peacefully slumbering features of the weary servant and he let out the breath he'd been holding. Merlin stirred, eyebrows creasing in discomfort before bleary eyes blinked open. Arthur removed his hand as Merlin shifted to look up at Arthur properly.

"Arthur? You alright?" he asked groggily. Arthur snorted in amusement.

"Better than you it seems. Honestly Merlin, when are you ever going to stop finding trouble?"

"Where's the fun in that?" he responded with a glint in his eye. "We'd be going on quests without running into any bandits, finding caves with no monsters, a tavern without a brawl!" he exclaimed in mock horror.

"Fighting beasts without magic," Arthur continued thoughtfully. Merlin stared at him piercingly, wondering if the double entendre was intended.

"Merlin, what do you think of magic?" Arthur asked, sitting down on the low table that served as Merlin's bed. The servant paled immediately, his expression creased as if in pain.

"Merlin?" Arthur called, looking slightly anxious and leaning forwards.

"Ow!" he shouted out. Arthur shot up onto his feet, quickly surveying Merlin's form, looking for the source of his discomfort. The blanket Arthur had been sitting on, stirred as Merlin brought his hand out from under it. Arthur winced as he realised he'd accidentally squashed it and watched awkwardly as Merlin flexed his fingers.

"Magic?" Merlin repeated, frowning and keeping his eyes on his hand. "You've never asked me about magic before," Merlin commented quietly.

"No, I suppose I haven't," Arthur conceded. Perhaps there was another reason for the knight's reluctance, he mused. It was a small consolation. He watched Merlin carefully as the servant picked at the bandages on his chest.

"So, what do you think?" Arthur prompted, genuinely curious. Merlin always seemed to stand by Arthur, incomprehensibly loyal, even through his darker days. He'd never wavered, always being the standing pillar of wisdom, never failing to say the right things at just the right moments. Arthur remembered asking Merlin's opinion once before over his marriage to Princess Elena.

_You're all mad._

But unlike before Merlin was taking his time to answer, staring off into the half distance, musing.

"I don't really think anything of it," Merlin finally answered. Merlin met Arthur's surprised expression for a moment before looking away again. "It's like asking me, how do I feel about a rock? Sure, someone could throw it around and hurt people, but another person could just as easily use it to build a house or just pass it by as it turns to dust. No matter how people use it, that doesn't mean I have a particular opinion if someone hurts me with it." Arthur frowned, puzzling through his words.

"You're saying that you don't think magic is inherently evil? That someone could have the power to hurt, but choose to build instead?" Arthur clarified, shaking his head slightly. Merlin curtly nodded.

"Sometimes, Merlin you say the oddest things," Arthur commented, not noticing the way the sorcerer's hands clench. "But, it so happens that on this occasion, I agree with you," Arthur conceded. Merlin looked up at him with wide eyes.

"You do?" he asked incredulously. Arthur smirked at him, amused.

"Don't get used to it. Half the time you talk utter rubbish," Arthur teased. Merlin glared at him half-heartedly, a wide grin that couldn't be contained spoiling his efforts. Arthur carefully patted him on the shoulder, as a friendly punch was currently out of the question.

"Thank you for being honest with me, Merlin," Arthur said, standing up and turning away. He didn't see the wide grin turn to a sad smile nor did he see the guilt that crashed through the warlock's eyes.

"Get some rest," Arthur called over his shoulder, leaving his loyal friend alone with his conscience.

BriefShiningMoment

MASSIVE A/N

This took a while. Mostly because of results, university prospects (I got in!), work and general family stuff. This ended slightly more angsty than I originally intended but I needed an ending and I just thought that in episode 3, Arthur seems to suddenly out of the blue, believe in magic. So this is kind of a prequel to that. Makes the whole thing a lot sadder in the end, but that's why we like drama!

Also, the Haunts, is actually a mythical creature but they seem to be quite vague ones so I just made the rest up. I don't know if there are any magic stealing, creepy soul, dog like things with claws running around. I think there's a reason why Howell didn't reveal their name to the knights…not sure what that is yet and isn't that the sign of a poorly organised writer? Lol. Speaking of organisation, my guilt urged me to write the last two pages of this. Btw. Reviews after a week of me posting, is a good guilt prompter. So, if you'd like me to introduce you to the wonders of tactical reviewing, just post what you think a week after I post. So I know people are still out there

Suggestions are welcome as I seem to be writing a lot of stuff with no action…So after all that badass, there's just a lot of…paperwork which I worry about people not approving of. Is it ok? I think I have some action planned for later… hehe


	7. I think we have a problem

For all the times that they seemed to go through them, for all the times they were attacked by man and beast alike, the forest still amazed Merlin. It was one of the few places he felt at peace. In all the places they'd been, in the liveliest village or the busiest market day, nowhere ever teemed with life quite like the woods did.

It was like an intangible force that weaved through the branches, into the very roots, seeping out of the rivers. Merlin's magic spread through it all, finding the quiet rabbits and scurrying mice that hid in the undergrowth. Lives that, fleeting and tiny as they were, still emitted the same abstruse energy that the ancient trees and embedded stones did. It thrilled Merlin in a way that nothing else could, to be a part of such wondrous design. Yet as relaxed as Merlin wanted to be in the presence of such old magic, his thoughts simply wouldn't leave him alone.

The knights stole glances his way as often as they dared, careful to only do so when they didn't think he noticed. They itched across his skin as he knew what they meant. The unspoken words had hung between them all since the closing of the veil.

They hadn't done The Talk yet.

He hadn't realised at the time that the reason he'd received no further visitors after Arthur's uncharacteristic heart to heart was down to his hosts. Howell and Anwen had agreed between them that Merlin's rest was more important than the knights' questions. The recovered sorcerer had thanked them profusely when it came time for them to leave. He could feel the weight of the new pendant around his neck under his shirt.

It was the least he could offer. They might be aware that their village was the site of an old druid settlement, a well of magic. The danger of living in such a place was a very real one, especially with the unbalance now surrounding them. Now at least, they had some back up if they needed it.

_If you ever need help, call for me. _

He owed them, in a way. The secret he'd carried since childhood had been ripped from him with a violence that had unbalanced Merlin's world. He'd needed a break, some protection from the harsh coldness of truth that now surrounded him and these villagers had given it to him. The joy of being around people without watching his answers, even just to see the awkwardness of the knights mingling with the village folk was priceless. Because they were mingling. Surrounded by sorcerers, and the knights of Camelot were completely at ease. It was more than Merlin would have hoped for. But it still didn't make their glances any less discomforting.

Arthur may have sensed it. It wasn't often that the group had to travel without either Merlin or Gwaine talking to ease the tension. Perhaps he assumed that the attack had shaken them so he let it alone, for now. As they stopped for the night, Merlin knew he'd have to go some way to easing the distance between them himself. Mostly because the constant staring by one knight or more as he set up camp was becoming infuriating.

"I'm going to get some firewood," Merlin announced. Arthur looked up at him as he finished tying the horses to a tree.

"Alright," he responded slowly, wondering why the man chose now to tell him everything he was up to. "Leon, go with him," he ordered, gathering the empty waterskins. "Lancelot," he called, waving them at him, indicating that they needed to find a river. "Gwaine, try not to break anything," he called over his shoulder.

Lancelot looked back and smiled reassuringly at Merlin. He relaxed slightly, knowing that the knight wouldn't leave him alone unless the others were reasonably accepting of the fact they had a sorcerer in their midst. Merlin watched them walk off for a moment, uneasy. He wasn't sure whether it was another of his Arthurisindanger feelings or whether he didn't like the way Leon was looking at him.

"Come on then," Merlin muttered, half to himself.

Leon remained silent, following the warlock into the trees, remaining deep in thought as Merlin began picking up logs. After a while Merlin appeared to almost completely forget about the knight hovering around him and merely sighed as he reached to pick up another stick. He stopped and groaned at the sight in front of him.

"What are you two doing?" Merlin asked, exasperated. Would they ever stop following him around? Percival smiled slightly while Elyan looked sheepishly at Gwaine who met Merlin's glare unabashed.

"Hunting," he replied with a wicked grin. Merlin looked unimpressed and turned back to his wood collecting, his pile now consisting of three twigs.

"I think the firewood can wait, Merlin," Leon called. Merlin stopped and stared off into the woods for a moment, craving the peace that had comforted him before.

"We need to talk," Elyan began gently. Merlin sighed and looked back to them.

"I know," he said quietly.

"First of all I think we should make it clear, that we will keep your secret, Merlin," Percival stated. Merlin turned back to them. Though he'd half expected it especially since Arthur hadn't even looked at him suspiciously for the past few days, it still slightly stunned him to hear it said.

"Why would you do this for me? I don't understand," Merlin admitted. The knights looked at each other, unsure which of them should answer.

"You're our friend, Merlin," Elyan eventually answered. Merlin froze, looking at them all with wide eyes. Elyan frowned. "You do know that, right Merlin?" he asked uncertainly. Merlin cleared his throat, averting his gaze and shuffling awkwardly. A small grin fought its way onto his face.

"Merlin, all of us promise not to tell Arthur," Leon assured, stepping forwards. Merlin looked at him carefully, expecting a but somewhere.

"I have a condition," Leon continued warily. The other knights gave him warning looks, obviously not being in on this. "I know you won't tell Arthur, not while his father is king. I need you to promise that you will tell him one day." Merlin relaxed slightly and nodded.

"As soon as Arthur becomes king I'll tell him everything," Merlin vowed. Leon smiled and offered the warlock his arm. Merlin returned the smile and grasped his arm, touched by the knightly gesture. He looked over the group, taking in the acceptance and clinging to it.

"You know you're all criminals now, don't you? Harbouring a sorcerer, lying to the crowned prince?" he asked uncertainly, guilty that these men of honour were now part of his deceptions.

"It wasn't easy," Leon admitted. "Still isn't. You're a good man, Merlin and you've earned our respect. You saved our lives, the least we can do is give you our silence." Merlin absorbed this for a moment, that small smile creeping back.

"I was wondering what would you do if Arthur reacted badly?" Gwaine asked, curious, picking up a log and tossing it to Leon. The knight caught it with a glare.

"To what?" Merlin said distractedly. Gwaine huffed in exasperation.

"Finding out about…what you can do," Gwaine elaborated. Merlin turned around and met his gaze.

"Oh that," Merlin realised with innocently wide eyes. Gwaine fought the urge to roll his own and engage Camelot's mighty magical protector in a headlock. "I don't really think about it," Merlin replied, closing the conversation. Unable to take the subtle hint as the final word, Gwaine persisted.

"But what if he did?"

"Gwaine," Elyan quietly warned. Merlin frowned irritably.

"Well I suppose I'd be banished until I'd become useful again, like you did," Merlin conceded, clearly wishing the knight would drop it.

"I was thinking more…" Merlin raised an eyebrow, an expression most certainly emulated from Gaius. Gwaine struggled for the right words until Leon interrupted.

"Merlin what if he's not as reasonable about it as you might think?"

"What like execution?" Merlin chuckled wryly. Gwaine flinched at the word and Merlin sobered. "That's never going to happen, he wouldn't," Merlin said resolutely.

"Merlin you can't deny that with the way Morgana turned out, it's a distinct possibility that Uther could find out," Lancelot said seriously.

"It wasn't magic that turned Morgana against us," Merlin said sharply, the words _it was me _echoed in his mind. Merlin sighed, knowing that his friends were only concerned for him. "I've been faced with execution before. Trust me, there's no point thinking about it. Once Arthur's king I won't need to worry about it either."

"But you do worry," Percival interjected quietly. Merlin looked him in the eyes, unaware how intense the isolation was in his gaze.

"The pyre's shadow haunts me every day," he said quietly. The knights looked on in worry as Merlin suddenly stiffened and turned away from them.

At that moment Merlin felt cold, not realising he'd frozen to the spot until Gwaine called out to him. A strange sensation ran up his arms and down his neck to his chest. He gripped at his chest as it tightened, his muscles tensing against a threat that wasn't physically there.

"Water," he mumbled to himself. Leon and Elyan edged towards the warlock cautiously. Merlin spun round suddenly. "The river," he exclaimed, running off in that direction. After a slight pause at the sudden changes in their companion, the knights caught on to the urgency of the situation. Merlin kept ahead of them all, dodging branches and jumping over roots with an agility that he rarely possessed. Leon couldn't understand how Merlin knew which part of the river to go to let alone that anyone was in danger at all.

A terrified yell rid the knight of such doubts.

"Lancelot!" he shouted out as they reached the river bank. Abandoned waterskins scattered the ground where Lancelot lay on his back next to the river. The knight was yelling and thrashing on the ground with Arthur grasping his shoulders. The prince looked up at the others' arrival.

"They're attacking his mind," he said gravely.

"Arthur," Lancelot called out brokenly. He stared up sightless, still struggling against Arthur. The whites of his eyes were the only parts visible.

"Who?" asked Elyan, drawing his sword and surveying the area. Lancelot gasped and fell limp as two small sprites appeared from his chest. They looked a lot like Sidhe, with the same scowling demeanour, but not blue skinned.

Arthur leapt to his feet, all of their group drawing their swords apart from Merlin.

"What do you want?" Merlin demanded.

"Quiet, Merlin!" Arthur ordered harshly. They already had their sharp gazes riveted on the servant.

"Your fear," one hissed before they both lunged. Arthur stepped forward, swinging his sword, but too slow to stop the path of the sprites. They soared past him and he twisted round just in time to see them slam into Merlin's chest, causing him to stumble back. With a strangled cry, Merlin grasped his head and doubled over in pain.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled, rushing forward to his friend. Merlin's hands fell away to his sides revealing that same strange white stare. Arthur stopped at the sight of his expression.

With white eyes, Merlin didn't scream out in blind terror. He didn't even twitch. The knights subconsciously kept their distance, uneasily scrutinising their friend. Arthur, who knew his servant better than anyone, watched his expressions change with shock. It wasn't fear that broke through Merlin's blank demeanour. It was grief. Grief so strong that it looked like Merlin was watching his whole life shatter before his eyes.

"No," he breathed. Arthur had only heard such sadness once before. He'd never thought that any mortal could suffer through the same heartache that lay in the eyes of the Cailleach.

"Merlin," Arthur called, unable to stand his friend's suffering. The grief faded from his face, his features relaxing to stone before changing to something completely different. Arthur froze once more as Merlin displayed another emotion that Arthur rarely attributed to his servant.

Anger, black and fierce distorted Merlin's expression to a face Arthur barely recognised. Beside him, Percival pulled Arthur back slightly, his eyes glued to Merlin's hands. Curled slightly by his sides, the knight feared how much of a hold these creatures had over Merlin.

Just as suddenly as it came, the anger disappeared again, fading from his face as the whites of his eyes faded back to normal. His dark features dissolved into shock and an overwhelming horror that sent the warlock to his knees. As he fell, a white entity rushed out of his chest, forming the two sprites scrambling away from the warlock.

"Such darkness," one hissed, almost cringing.

"The tomb of fate will bring doom's hate. He keeps hope and darkness in this coin," the other said ominously. They scuttled away, shrieking at each other as they disappeared into the woods. Confident that they wouldn't return, Arthur turned back to his friend who, unlike Lancelot was still conscious. Arthur knelt a small distance from his friend, noticing how he was gasping for breath as if he'd been starved of it. He was also trembling.

"Merlin?" Arthur called, gingerly reaching for his friend's shoulder. Merlin flinched violently, shuffling back blindly. He looked up into Arthur's eyes in fear, the prince not sure how aware Merlin was.

"It's alright Merlin. It's over," he reassured. Merlin's terrified gaze pierced into Arthur's even after the trembling eased.

"But it was real, Arthur," he said in a voice that echoed the grief that had claimed him previously. "And it's never over," he whispered, his eyes conveying something else that Arthur couldn't read.

"What's never over?" he whispered back, desperately trying to reassure his friend. He hadn't realised that it would be so hard, it was usually something he left to Merlin and he…Merlin had never needed anything beyond a punch on the shoulder that he'd immediately complain about. So it was with something like relief when Merlin scrunched up his face and held his head in pain. Because once he did, not only could he let Leon, the knight most adept at dealing with concussions take over, but Merlin seemed to recover somewhat.

Merlin didn't register the knight's presence, focusing simply on breathing slowly. Eventually he looked up to meet Leon's gaze. The knight noticed with relief that Merlin displayed none of the emotions that had plagued him before. Instead he looked surprisingly focused and intent.

"That's twice now," he said to himself. Leon frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you think it's odd? As soon as the Dorocha leave it's now even more dangerous to be in the woods? First the Haunts, now these sprites?" Merlin questioned him. Leon's gaze dimmed slightly as he ordered his thoughts and realised Merlin was right.

"You think there's something wrong? Something," he glanced over at Arthur before lowering his voice. "Something like magic?" Merlin nodded gravely.

"We need to get to Camelot fast. I think we have a problem."

BriefShiningMoment

Oh my god that took ages. I'm so sorry! There are so many pieces to this I had to rewrite and there are probably tons of mistakes in it still but I wanted to fit so much in! I ended cramming the stuff I was planning to put into three separate chapters into one because I knew it would take forever to write it all! And you can't wait that long! It isn't fair! Sorry for the wait, I hope you don't mind too badly? :S

What do you think Merlin saw? I have a vague idea but I'm interested to see whether we think on the same wavelengths. So. What is Merlin's darkest fear? What is Lancelot's? I'm so mean to them


	8. Theories and soup

It was a tense and fast paced journey back to Camelot. Conversations were short and seldom, always in low voices in caution of who may be listening. In the face of this unknown danger, a new solidarity was formed in the group. Meaningful glances were exchanged between Merlin and the knights. Shared understanding and grave reassurance were passed between them for reasons Arthur couldn't understand.

Sometime during this quest Merlin had become something of a riddle. It was something Arthur was used to for it wasn't the first time his manservant behaved oddly. Spontaneous silences, bouts of edginess, blatant excuses and general weirdness seemed to be a package deal with him. What Arthur wasn't used to, though it came with increasing frequency in recent years, was this calmness in the face of adversity. Almost as if he knew something they didn't.

Whenever the forest became too silent or the knights more anxious, Merlin simply looked into the forest with an impenetrable gaze before returning to his previous tasks. He wouldn't utter a word or look to the knights for reassurance. He looked completely and frustratingly relaxed.

Arthur resolutely steered his horse until it was side by side to Merlin's. The manservant flicked his eyes in Arthur's direction before returning his gaze to the passing woodland.

"What's your theory?" Arthur asked innocently. Merlin jolted from his vigil and gave the prince a questioning look.

"You assume I have one?" he asked in return.

"Contrary to popular belief Merlin you aren't always a complete idiot. You've followed me into danger and consulted with Gaius often enough for it to come to my attention that you aren't as stupid as you look. I'll ask again. Your theory. What is it?" Arthur felt a sizeable measure of satisfaction at the surprised look on Merlin's face. The servant chuckled slightly before sighing. That strange calmness came over his features again.

"These creatures aren't in any books I've seen," Merlin said with a small, scrutinising glance to Arthur. The prince sighed slightly in resignation, about to turn away.

"Which means," Merlin continued, watching Arthur turn back to him, intrigued. "They must have been sleeping." Arthur stared at him, re-evaluating his thoughts on Merlin's intelligence. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Think about it. Camelot has remained in peace, completely undisturbed apart from the odd creature or avenging sorceress. And now, we're completely surrounded by ones that aren't even listed in the mythical books? Where did they come from?" he asked reasonable. Arthur scowled at him.

"I hope you're going to answer my question, Merlin," he said flatly. The servant sighed in exasperation.

"Fine, there are two theories. One, these beasts were sleeping or hiding and the disturbance caused from the opening and closing of the veil to the land of the dead caused them to come out of hiding or wake up and basically wreak havoc," Merlin rushed. Arthur blinked for a few minutes, processing all of this. After a while, ignoring Merlin's sly _this is why I was explaining slowly_ look, Arthur spoke up.

"Why hide in the first place?" Merlin looked sad for a brief moment.

"To save themselves," he answered. The continued "from your father" lay between them, unspoken.

"My other theory isn't as nice," Merlin warned.

"Nice?" Arthur repeated scornfully. Merlin grimaced.

"Two, they were summoned," Merlin said bluntly.

"By a sorcerer?" Arthur clarified. "But why?"

"I thought about that too," Merlin admitted. "Either the beasts overcame the person or group who summoned them, they haven't received their orders yet or…" Merlin trailed off grimly. Deciding he must be a glutton for punishment, Arthur prompted him.

"Or…"

"They already are. Think, Arthur. Logically what is the best defence for magic?" Merlin asked.

"Magic," Arthur answered slowly. Merlin, unnoticed by Arthur, smiled slightly at the admission and nodded in agreement.

"And what is the first thing to do when facing an opponent?" Merlin asked again. Arthur, resigned to answering Merlin's quick fire questions, responded dutifully.

"Find their weakness."

"Fear is the fastest way to find someone's weakness. It is often the only thing that will defeat them and those sprites were looking for it. Focusing their attack. The next problem is defence and what were the Haunts after?"

"Magic," Arthur breathed.

"Those beasts are working together. A fighting force like the land has never seen and they're planning an attack across the five kingdoms."

"And Camelot has no defence against them," Arthur realised in growing dread. Merlin averted his gaze, picking at his reins.

"Yes, well. It's only a theory," Merlin mumbled.

"Merlin your theory…best not tell the knights. We can't afford to spread panic," Arthur suggested in a strictly controlled voice. Merlin nodded in agreement.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Arthur demanded, a small amount of anxiety slipping through. Merlin looked at him sharply for a long moment.

"Thought it best not to spread panic," Merlin finally answered. Arthur, now looking closely saw that despite how alert Merlin was, he looked exhausted. He suddenly wondered whether Merlin had gotten any sleep since he was attacked. It certainly didn't look like he had.

As Camelot finally came into view, Arthur decided if this was as bad as Merlin thought, the kingdom's days were seriously numbered.

MERLIN

Merlin sighed, thinking it would probably have been a better idea not to inform Arthur. The truth was he didn't think he could handle this on his own. Point him at a sorcerer or griffin and the day's work was done. He knew he couldn't possible handle all this by himself. Merlin looked over at the knights again and smiled slightly. Maybe his job would be easier now he had more informed help.

Lancelot caught his gaze and gestured to him. Merlin slowed his horse, leaving Arthur to his musing.

"Are you alright?" Lancelot asked meaningfully. Catching his tone, Merlin wondered whether he meant the attack or the Talk.

"These creatures could be from the darkest pits of hell. They could be the worst things I've ever faced," he confided, almost sounding like he was commenting on the weather. Lancelot shifted uneasily, until Merlin smiled to him. "Having the support of the Knights of the Round Table…I can't explain how that feels. When Arthur knows? I feel like we could take on anything." Lancelot smiled back at his friend, glad to see hope for better days still burning bright in his eyes.

Seeing Lancelot's smile falter and his eyes slide away, Merlin looked at him in sympathy.

"It's not easy. To have your worst fears ripped from you and play out before your eyes," Merlin said knowingly. Lancelot looking back to the warlock and the shared pain in his eyes gave the knight strength. Merlin tensed and breathed deeply in an attempt to compose himself. Lancelot scrutinised Merlin's curiously blank expression, wondering if years of living in fear gave you the ability to put a stone mask on.

"We have to hold on to our hope, Lancelot," he said, struggling with the words. "It's the only way we can face our fears, by believing in a better future," he said clasping the knight's shoulder. Lancelot offered his friend a weak smile, hoping he could have faith that matched half that of Merlin's. He looked at the city around him and took comfort in the fact that today, they stood strong.

News of their arrival would be spread through the city. The few citizens that witnessed their return greeted them with wide smiles and shouted praise for the prince and his knights. Arthur courteously waved back but didn't lessen their pace, eager to return to his father and Gwen. He suddenly realised that they wouldn't even be sure whether he was alive. They certainly expected someone to be missing in their group. It was strange to think of as it seemed to have happened months ago.

Seeing his lover waiting for him at the top of the stairs to the citadel, Arthur felt like it had been years since he'd last seen her. He hardly registered the fact that he'd dismounted and made it across the courtyard until he felt the woman he loved in his arms.

"You came back to me," Gwen choked out, gripping onto his shoulders fiercely. Arthur felt a deep burn in his chest as he thought of the pain she must have gone through. Too soon, she pulled back from him and surveyed the tired group of knights behind him, checking their numbers. Her gaze remained on Lancelot's for a moment longer, thanking him with her eyes for keeping Arthur safe.

"You're all here," Gwen said relieved, but a small amount of confusion present, remembering her fears of the past few weeks.

"There is much to tell you, but not here," Arthur answered quietly. He turned to his knights, manservant and court physician. "We meet in the war room in an hour's time," he announced, turning away and striding up the stairs. Merlin watched him leave with Gwen at his side, guilt creeping over him as he saw Arthur's troubled expression.

Dismounting his horse, Merlin made his way over to Gaius and offered him a smile. The old physician embraced his ward with a strength that belied his years.

"I don't know what you did Merlin," Gaius said to him in relief. "But I am so glad you did." Merlin chuckled humourlessly.

"You probably won't like it," he warned, remembering Gaius' frequent reprimands of him challenging authority. He had essentially sacked a being more ancient than Kilgharrah.

"I don't doubt that," Gaius huffed. "Come on, I'll make you some soup," he continued, beginning the walk to his chambers. Merlin's mouth watered at the thought of some proper food and no one could cook like Gaius. "I'm sure proper explanations can wait until after Arthur's meeting." Merlin, who was just about to begin explaining the recent events, closed his mouth and sighed fondly.

After confronting the most powerful being he'd ever seen, closing the veil between this world and the next, being attacked by magic leaching monsters and fear sucking sprites it was nice to come home for a nice hot bowl of his favourite soup.

BriefShiningMoment

I swear this whole chapter was unintended! I was going to get this story back to a relative canon but then I put that last line onto the previous chapter and the monsters we call plot bunnies wouldn't leave me alone! Pity me! But at least you have a plot at last. So you better review!

Off to uni now and I have no idea how this is going to effect my updates. Not that you're used to amazingly fast updates anyway…sorry :S


	9. The bringer of darkness

Gaius discreetly watched his ward from across the table. Partly because of an irrational fear that if he looked away he'd be gone, but mostly because despite his obvious relief to be home, Merlin was tense. His gaze kept flitting to the window and the door, his fingers tapping a fast, anxious rhythm beside his empty bowl. Knowing from experience that if asked, Merlin would insist nothing was wrong, Gaius simply waited for him to crack.

"I did it," Merlin blurted out, looking at Gaius with the wide eyes of a child about to be reprimanded. Gaius calmly sipped another spoonful of soup, used to Merlin's dramatics.

"Did what?" Merlin's eyes fell back to the table, his hands now picking at his shirt sleeves.

"Closed the veil," he answered solemnly, his hands now completely still and waiting for Gaius' reaction.

"You couldn't possibly…Merlin it takes a power that you don't have to do such a thing, that's why the Cailleach keeps her vigil. What on earth did you do?" he asked incredulous. Merlin gathered up the dishes and took them to the sink, setting them to wash with a flash of his eyes and began pacing. Gaius didn't bother mentioning the casual use of magic, concentrating instead on the dread in Merlin's expression.

"I felt it Gaius. I could feel the power of the veil, it was ancient, older than anything. When I got close I _knew_ it didn't need a sacrifice. I've felt that magic before, with Nimueh and the Sidhe but the veil was different I could just sense it," Merlin rushed, babbling slightly. "And once I knew the veil itself didn't need a sacrifice and I saw Lancelot trying to take my place I was so…angry."

"Merlin, tell me you didn't do something stupid," Gaius implored him. Merlin grimaced.

"I didn't try to take her on or anything. I just told her to leave and... I don't even know what I did. It was like finding the part of me that matched the power in the veil and using it." Merlin collapsed into his chair again, pinching the bridge of his nose. Gaius tried to take in the facts logically, but that was the problem. It wasn't logical at all. There were some forces that couldn't be tampered with and Merlin had once again done the impossible.

"There are dark creatures everywhere, I can sense them and Gaius…I think they can sense me. I think they're connected to the veil somehow I just don't know what to do."

"These dark creatures, is that the purpose of Arthur's meeting?" Gaius inquired. Merlin nodded tiredly, sitting back down in his seat as if a great weight had been lifted.

"We must trust he will protect Camelot. As for the cause of this disturbance, I suggest you ask better council than I," Gaius advised pointedly. Merlin sighed, not looking forward to it. He then began rubbing the wood of the table as the grain ran. Recognising another nervous habit of his ward, Gaius raised his eyebrow.

"I know that look," he commented wryly. Merlin grimaced slightly and paused in his movements. He glanced up at his guardian, sheepish.

"They saw me do it," Merlin admitted sheepishly. His gaze drifted to the side, silently bracing himself for a lecture on secrets and necessity and how it must never be known-

"That's good news," Gaius sighed, relieved. Merlin looked up at him quizzically, surprised at the placid tone. "You'll need all the help you can get if there are more magical creatures on the loose."

"You're not mad?" Merlin asked tentatively.

"Obviously you still need to be cautious, Merlin. The fewer people that know the better but of all the people to find out, you need help from the knights. Hiding your secret will become even harder if we're to see increased attacks on Camelot. I assume you've already spoken to them about informing Arthur?" Gaius reasoned. Merlin sat back in surprise, relieved that he hadn't in some way disappointed his guardian.

"I've said I'll tell Arthur when he's king," Merlin said numbly, running his hand across his face. Only a week ago he'd been preparing for his own death, never to be recognised for his deeds.

"Your time is close Merlin," Gaius assured him with a fond smile. Merlin took a deep breath, not yet willing to fully let himself believe it.

"I need to see the dragon. Tell me what Arthur is up to when I get back would you?" Merlin stopped on his way to the door and turned. "And no, I'm not at the tavern." Gaius turned back to the sink, plucking the now thoroughly scrubbed dishes from the air. He then turned to his library, beginning to take out every book on magical creatures he could find. It was never too early to prepare.

XXMERLINXX

Kilgharrah arrived in a shorter time then Merlin expected, almost as if he'd expected the summons. Unlike the previous time, the dragon didn't pause for greetings.

"Dark forces are at work here, Merlin. This is an imbalance that threatens to doom us all," he warned ominously, sounding slightly angry.

"Yes I know, I've felt it," Merlin responded abruptly, unintentionally defensive.

"I fail to see how you could," Kilgharrah dismissed airily. Merlin frowned at him.

"Either they've been disturbed by the closing of the veil or a sorcerer summoned them," he suggested.

"The Cailleach is an ancient form. She knows how to close the veil without inciting chaos," Kilgharrah countered, dismissing Merlin's theory. The warlock shuffled nervously. "I understand the noble Lancelot took your place?" Kilgharrah inquired. Merlin looked up at him sharply in anger.

"You knew he'd try to sacrifice himself," he accused heatedly.

"What did you do?" Kilgharrah hissed quietly. "Tell me you didn't challenge her." Merlin glared up defiantly which was all the answer the dragon needed. "I thought such stupidity belonged only in your past actions but alas I was wrong," Kilgharrah roared. "The Dorocha needed to be brought back to the veil before it was closed!"

"I did that!" Merlin responded defensively. "They were all on the other side, I made sure of it." Kilgharrah paused at his words and stared at the warlock intensely, searching for something only he could see. After a long moment he looked at him with a new recognition in his eyes.

"You don't know what you have done," Kilgharrah said. The harsh words were softened by the curiosity in his tone. Merlin tried to focus on the matter at hand.

"Kilgharrah why are there so many dark creatures around? I can sense them everywhere yet all of them appear to be there for a purpose. Could a sorcerer have summoned them?" The dragon gazed at the young warlock in front of him with a terrible knowing in his eyes.

"Yes, a sorcerer summoned them," Kilgharrah conceded sadly.

"Do you know who it was?" Merlin asked desperately. The ancient dragon sighed and the look he gave the young warlock betrayed his years.

"It was you."

Merlin stared at the dragon for a long moment.

"This wasn't me!" he finally answered in anger. "What possible reason could I have for summoning such…darkness..." Merlin visibly deflated.

"Oh," he said distantly.

Because he had summoned it, he'd used those exact words.

_Ypile cume mec._

Darkness, come to me.

BriefShiningMoment

Well. That was dramatic! I'm now uber aware of the sad irony of this fic's title. What can you do? This is very short. But hey, Doctor who quotes abound. But there's a lot of information in the next chapter which needs to be tweaked a bit. So I'm hoping I'll remind a few people of my existence as it is continued…just at a slower rate. There's one more chapter to this, I'm just wondering whether to write more… opinions please? Bearing in mind my awful rate of posts recently…


	10. Keeper of light

"Where are you taking me?" Merlin shouted over the whistling wind.

"There is something you must see," Kilgharrah said. He didn't say anymore and Merlin didn't bother to ask again. He should have known by now how the dragon liked to keep his riddles to himself. Merlin fell into silence once more, still reeling at the horror of knowing he himself had brought this fate to Camelot.

Kilgharrah descended from the clouds and landed in an unfamiliar area. The land was beautiful, with soft grass and a glittering shore which rivalled that of Avalon. He could see land across the ocean and parts of an old temple remained on the island. Merlin curiously studied the walls which looked to be of the Old Religion. Tentatively, Merlin reached out with his magic to sense the earth. He blinked in shock as he recognised it.

"It feels like the Isle of the Blessed," Merlin commented.

"That's because it is, young warlock," replied Kilgharrah, his eyes glittering. Merlin stared around in shock.

"It can't be!" he exclaimed, even as he saw it with his own eyes. The altar he'd come to know so well lay not too far, along with the remnants of the castle. He blinked with surprise as he realised he could now see past the ruins and saw trees and _life_, wild and pure across the land. He'd only ever seen The Isle of the Blessed filled with mist, the earth barren and neglected.

"What happened?" he asked in awe, drinking in the peaceful air.

"You did, shield bearer," Kilgharrah said with something like sadness in his voice.

"Why do you call me that?" Merlin asked uneasily, meeting Kilgharrah's ancient eyes.

"You challenged the Cailleach, Merlin. By doing so, you named yourself a Keeper of Light. Namely, the shield bearer. The power you wielded that night should not have been. It gave you the ability to banish the Dorocha and redeem the Isle to some of its former glory." Merlin looked around him in wonder once more at a land that had only meant pain and loss for him. Now there was life and colour, the land was unrecognisable.

"I don't understand, what's a Keeper of Light? And I don't remember naming myself anything!" Merlin protested weakly.

"Think, Merlin. Those were ancient words you uttered and I dare not repeat them." Kilgharrah watched as the young man frowned in concentration.

Bebiede be arisan, ypile cume mec! Beo scildanbora steacra strengthe ealdan aewfaestnesse, ic the diegol searobend! Fago, folgie min bebeod!

It hadn't been a conscious decision to speak those words. They had simply come to him. They'd felt right and, he admitted there had been an ancient feel in the air, in his bones.

"Scildanbora," he murmured. The word settled on him with a finality that was both fitting and foreboding. It seemed that, without realising it, Merlin had created another destiny.

"Uther's purge was more damaging to magic than he ever could have guessed. He didn't stop at killing sorcerers. He hunted and killed ruthlessly, destroyed shrines and sacred sources of magic, burning the trees of nymphs, poisoning rivers of naiads. The Sidhe of Avalon were put under siege, taking in all the magic folk they could," Kilgharrah recounted with a distant look, as if seeing the fall of magic before his very eyes once more. "Magic quite literally fled from the land, the sprites and spirits hiding elsewhere, in a realm known only as the Sanctuary of the Old Religion.

It is growing once more. The boundary between here and the Sanctuary grows thinner before its time. The ease with which you broke it proves this. The land isn't ready yet and the balance is on the verge of collapsing. The realm needs a Keeper and now, one has been named. You."

Merlin's face paled the more it dawned on him. He hadn't dreamt that the rule of Uther had been so damaging.

"I don't know what any of this means, what do I do, exactly?" Merlin asked shakily. Kilgharrah's voice quietened but lost none of its authority as he explained.

"It means that you now have an active part to play in the balance. You know some of its power, you already wielded it before with the cup of life and mirroring life and death." Images of lightening and spilt blood flashed through Merlin's mind. Kilgharrah continued with what could have been regret in his voice. "I had falsely assumed that was all that would be required of you. It seems I was wrong. By naming yourself shield bearer, just as the Cailleach keeps the veil, you now protect the realm of magic.

Only a Keeper can truly summon creatures of magic from the Sanctuary. Only a Keeper has the power to send them back. You will know more of what occurs around you. Your senses which had been growing will now become sharpened. When you sensed the cup and the tearing of the veil, you left yourself vulnerable. Am I right in saying you recently lost consciousness as a result?"

Merlin nodded weakly, wishing he could sit down and press his hands to his ears to stop himself from listening.

"These creatures that answered your summons must be stopped. Be careful, Merlin," he warned softly, concern showing through. "Despite all the good magic can do, there is still the darkness that Uther feared lurking in the depths of the earth and now, I fear they will reawaken."

Merlin sank to the floor and stared off into the distance. Kilgharrah watched with sympathy, knowing it wasn't fear for himself that raged through the young man. He'd known him long enough to see that the warlock had courage. He was simply overwhelmed.

"I can't do it, Kilgharrah" he uttered, shaking his head numbly. "Whatever it is I just _can't_. I've made too many mistakes just protecting Camelot, just one city. I can't protect the whole land! Look at the mess I've made already!" Merlin looked up at him desperately. The old dragon could see the fear of failure and years of insecurity and inexperience weighed down on his dragonlord. But Kilgharrah knew the heart behind those fearful eyes and could see greatness there.

"You are not alone, Merlin. The mortal world stands between many realms. Each has its guardians. You may not be comforted to know that the Cailleach is one, but you forget the one other you have met. I believe it is you that made it possible for her to be appointed as the Keeper of Avalon." Merlin's eyes widened in realisation.

"Freya?" he said reverently, his voice unconsciously softening at her name.

"This is a heavy burden you must bear, young warlock. Know that I and many others will do whatever we can to aid you," Kilgharrah reassured the overwhelmed warlock. He slowly nodded, once more taking in the life around him, life that was there because of him. In his mind, he saw the terrorised village of Kebul and the desolation of the Perilous Lands. Perhaps if he could help others it would be worth it.

"You really think I can do this, Kilgharrah?" Merlin asked, feeling ten years old under the dragon's wisdom. Kilgharrah returned Merlin's gaze with the closest thing that could come to fondness in the expression of a dragon.

"If there is one thing I know about you Merlin, it's that you care too much to fail.. Your heart is your strength Merlin, though sometimes you allow it to overwhelm you. I believe you will make the right choices in time."

"I don't know how to control these creatures, Kilgharrah," Merlin admitted quietly.

"You must find a way, Merlin. I can not help you in this task. What I can do is aid what villages I can from further terror," the dragon responded gravely. Merlin looked up sharply.

"You're going to fight them? Alone?" Merlin demanded before shaking his head. "I can't let you do this Kilgharrah." The dragon snorted defensively.

"Do not think me a defenceless beast, Merlin. I am more than capable of holding my own and you'd have to order me not to," he added solemnly. Merlin smiled fondly.

"I can't convince you not to, can I?" Merlin asked resignedly. He sighed. "I won't order you not to give protection to those you can. Thank you, old friend." Kilgharrah bowed his head in respect.

"We have a long fight ahead of us, Merlin. Prince Arthur needs you now more than ever." Merlin almost rolled his eyes. Where had he heard that before? He smiled up at his fellow kin.

"We'd best get to work."

BriefShiningMoment

This may seem sudden…it kind of is. I never realised how vicious those bunnies were! So I may continue with this but I'm not sure. I'm going to try and head off into canon again, but keeping my plot running with it.

So there may be a sequel…or more. What do you think?

I like all the episodes honestly but some just don't have…enough bunnies…. I'm honestly not sure what I'm planning or if ever it will be finished. Let's hope so!

Note: Leohtbora has been used to light torches. Scildan is the basic shield – Merlin uses it or the variation – Gescildan. As far as I know, the term Scildanbora hasn't been used on the show. It's Merlin's newest title :D


End file.
